登陆注册
5239300000010

第10章 OUR ENGLISH WATERING-PLACE(1)

IN the Autumn-time of the year, when the great metropolis is so much hotter, so much noisier, so much more dusty or so much more water-carted, so much more crowded, so much more disturbing and distracting in all respects, than it usually is, a quiet sea-beach becomes indeed a blessed spot. Half awake and half asleep, this idle morning in our sunny window on the edge of a chalk-cliff in the old-fashioned watering-place to which we are a faithful resorter, we feel a lazy inclination to sketch its picture.

The place seems to respond. Sky, sea, beach, and village, lie as still before us as if they were sitting for the picture. It is dead low-water. A ripple plays among the ripening corn upon the cliff, as if it were faintly trying from recollection to imitate the sea; and the world of butterflies hovering over the crop of radish-seed are as restless in their little way as the gulls are in their larger manner when the wind blows. But the ocean lies winking in the sunlight like a drowsy lion - its glassy waters scarcely curve upon the shore - the fishing-boats in the tiny harbour are all stranded in the mud - our two colliers (our watering-place has a maritime trade employing that amount of shipping) have not an inch of water within a quarter of a mile of them, and turn, exhausted, on their sides, like faint fish of an antediluvian species. Rusty cables and chains, ropes and rings, undermost parts of posts and piles and confused timber-defences against the waves, lie strewn about, in a brown litter of tangled sea-weed and fallen cliff which looks as if a family of giants had been making tea here for ages, and had observed an untidy custom of throwing their tea-leaves on the shore.

In truth, our watering-place itself has been left somewhat high and dry by the tide of years. Concerned as we are for its honour, we must reluctantly admit that the time when this pretty little semicircular sweep of houses, tapering off at the end of the wooden pier into a point in the sea, was a gay place, and when the lighthouse overlooking it shone at daybreak on company dispersing from public balls, is but dimly traditional now. There is a bleak chamber in our watering-place which is yet called the Assembly 'Rooms,' and understood to be available on hire for balls or concerts; and, some few seasons since, an ancient little gentleman came down and stayed at the hotel, who said that he had danced there, in bygone ages, with the Honourable Miss Peepy, well known to have been the Beauty of her day and the cruel occasion of innumerable duels. But he was so old and shrivelled, and so very rheumatic in the legs, that it demanded more imagination than our watering-place can usually muster, to believe him; therefore, except the Master of the 'Rooms' (who to this hour wears knee-breeches, and who confirmed the statement with tears in his eyes), nobody did believe in the little lame old gentleman, or even in the Honourable Miss Peepy, long deceased.

As to subscription balls in the Assembly Rooms of our watering-place now, red-hot cannon balls are less improbable. Sometimes, a misguided wanderer of a Ventriloquist, or an Infant Phenomenon, or a juggler, or somebody with an Orrery that is several stars behind the time, takes the place for a night, and issues bills with the name of his last town lined out, and the name of ours ignominiously written in, but you may be sure this never happens twice to the same unfortunate person. On such occasions the discoloured old Billiard Table that is seldom played at (unless the ghost of the Honourable Miss Peepy plays at pool with other ghosts) is pushed into a corner, and benches are solemnly constituted into front seats, back seats, and reserved seats - which are much the same after you have paid - and a few dull candles are lighted - wind permitting - and the performer and the scanty audience play out a short match which shall make the other most low-spirited - which is usually a drawn game. After that, the performer instantly departs with maledictory expressions, and is never heard of more.

But the most wonderful feature of our Assembly Rooms, is, that an annual sale of 'Fancy and other China,' is announced here with mysterious constancy and perseverance. Where the china comes from, where it goes to, why it is annually put up to auction when nobody ever thinks of bidding for it, how it comes to pass that it is always the same china, whether it would not have been cheaper, with the sea at hand, to have thrown it away, say in eighteen hundred and thirty, are standing enigmas. Every year the bills come out, every year the Master of the Rooms gets into a little pulpit on a table, and offers it for sale, every year nobody buys it, every year it is put away somewhere till next year, when it appears again as if the whole thing were a new idea. We have a faint remembrance of an unearthly collection of clocks, purporting to be the work of Parisian and Genevese artists - chiefly bilious-faced clocks, supported on sickly white crutches, with their pendulums dangling like lame legs - to which a similar course of events occurred for several years, until they seemed to lapse away, of mere imbecility.

Attached to our Assembly Rooms is a library. There is a wheel of fortune in it, but it is rusty and dusty, and never turns. A large doll, with moveable eyes, was put up to be raffled for, by five-and-twenty members at two shillings, seven years ago this autumn, and the list is not full yet. We are rather sanguine, now, that the raffle will come off next year. We think so, because we only want nine members, and should only want eight, but for number two having grown up since her name was entered, and withdrawn it when she was married. Down the street, there is a toy-ship of considerable burden, in the same condition. Two of the boys who were entered for that raffle have gone to India in real ships, since; and one was shot, and died in the arms of his sister's lover, by whom he sent his last words home.

同类推荐
热门推荐
  • 嫡女归

    嫡女归

    沈薇,一朝穿越,成为被继妹推入池塘,被继母以养病为名送到乡下老宅的小可怜。不怕不怕,咱可以劫富济贫。她的发家史其实就是一笔笔打劫史,她也很委屈好不好,送上门来的银子难不成不要?本以为能做个娇滴滴的软妹子,怎么在女魔头的路上越走越远呢?什么?继母阴谋阳谋算计?来吧,来吧,姐有智慧,但姐不跟你玩,姐直接动手,在实力面前一切阴谋诡计都是纸老虎。什么?爹爹偏心?我可是你的亲闺女啊,你那娇妻便是死了不是还能换个更年轻的吗?你闺女我的血管里可是流着和你一样的血呢。啥?祖母也偏心?祖母啊,我爹是您从外头抱来的吧?不然咋这么不待见您儿子的亲闺女呢只是墙头上那只小谁你哪家的呀?“你就是那沈家的病秧子?”他戏谑。似乎和外界传闻的不一样哦,那,是嫁呢?嫁呢?还是嫁呢?且看她这个伪闺秀如何覆手翻云搅动天下风云。
  • 蝴蝶

    蝴蝶

    每次听到木片的碰击声,孔在都知道是鲁班来了。自从那天鲁班坐上子墨子的飞机从半空中落下来后,她就骑上木马了。“都是那个女人给他带来的灾祸,那个女人一进门,那个瘦子也就进了门,非要约着他去坐木头大鸟。”“别说了大娘,他正在痛苦地难过呢,腰直不起来了。” “那个瘦子走了吗?”“走了。”这是孔在从她住的东厢房里听见的。……木片的碰击声是从街角那里传过来的。那里原先传过来的是炒栗子的香气,这时炒栗子的大锅里熬的是青草,传过来的是煮熟的青草味。
  • 老房子

    老房子

    “诸葛镇是中国最美丽的乡镇”。这是当地政府为创旅游品牌打出的一句广告语,至于是否最美丽,无从考证。然而诸葛镇的确是个美丽的地方,这点毋庸置疑。纵观星棋罗布的镇容,光是在规划布局,街道的奇妙设置上,就足以品出老祖宗从建镇的那一刻起,就独具匠心地借鉴了诸葛孔明八卦迷魂阵的原理,巧思妙想,精心构筑而成的。镇子大部分建筑不是建于三国或唐宋元明时期,而是清朝的嘉庆年间。
  • 第一网游:腹黑老公小萌妻

    第一网游:腹黑老公小萌妻

    他是洛翼笙,她是苏暖暖。他是一族之长,她是新手小白。他是富家少爷,她是不靠谱女青年。他是腹黑狐狸一只,她是包裹着木头的火球一枚。当原本不该有交集的两个人因为一块水晶被舆论牵扯在了一起,此后只剩下绵延不绝的爱恨情仇。
  • 牧羊人

    牧羊人

    张果子死了。风吹在他的白发上。他像一棵熟透的果实沉静地摆在石板上。羊没有发现异样,它们继续吃草。张果子的确死了。但是他感觉自己没有死。他从石板上站起来,空气不冷不热,脚下的草新嫩无比,当他抬眼望去,漫山遍野的羊出现在他的视线里。他跺一跺双脚,低头又看了看草地,感觉这是春天的草地,会开花的草尖上还站着一些红色的瓣子。草叶上的露水让他明白,这是一个春天的早晨。
  • 异世之无敌剑侠

    异世之无敌剑侠

    七星,寓意着古老的传说。天命之子会随着神迹的显现而降落人间。斗文、拼武;侠骨、柔肠;铁血、情爱;从黑洞穿越而来,身负国术剑法的方旭会如何演绎他的精彩人生?敬请观看。
  • 余生不再为你难过2

    余生不再为你难过2

    《花火》连载第一天就被百万读者誉为“眼泪收割机”的年度虐心小说。他是桀骜不逊的痞气小爷。是脾气、性格、成绩都不好,还成日里惹是生非的裴家二少爷。是一夜长大,为爱远赴西沙的特种部队少校。是她第一次迟到、罚站、翻墙、打架、反抗的开端……她本该远离他,可他却像阳光一直照进她心底最黑暗的地方。她是众星捧月的乖乖女。是自卑胆小又无趣、没主见,活的规规矩矩的白家大小姐,是六年后重拾自我,敢于揭露丑恶的社会记者。是他救了一次又一次,还信着护着宠着的人……他早该甩掉这个麻烦,可她偏偏落在他心上。
  • 非法夫妻

    非法夫妻

    故事伴随着人类语言出现,是最早的文学形式,也是当今一切文学之父。创作故事,我常把自己设置成为其中某个角色,体味尽各种人生角色,品尝尽各种人生况味。随故事而喜、而怒、而悲、而乐。当从故事中走出来时,忽然就会发觉,生活其实比故事还要精彩!
  • 龙魔血帝

    龙魔血帝

    生来隐疾困前程,盖因魔龙盘神魂。龙血浇灌神魔体,孤单逆乱破乾坤。原本想要平凡度过一生的少年,却不断被卷入种种漩涡之中,从此他便改变人生的轨道。什么是道?吾之言行即是道。什么是仁?顺我心意即是仁。不尊道不顺仁者,虽远必诛。
  • 书卷之城

    书卷之城

    “上天有好生之德,法师有济世之责。无论何时何地,身为书卷之城的法师都要无愧于心,对得起这肩上的法师荣誉。”